The Torch be Yours to Hold it High
by jda
Summary: A Rememberance Day tribute fic


The Torch be Yours to Hold it High

I would have posted this at 11am today if I had remembered that I actually had an account on Anyway, this story is meant as a tribute to all the veterans of the past world wars, as well as the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and all other wars in between. The title is in reference to the poem, In Flanders Field, by Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, a Canadian army doctor. The poem wouldn't format properly when I tried to add it to this story, so it's not here, but if you want to see it, just google "In Flanders Field" and google should spit out sites that have the poem there.

Finally, I don't own anything that is related to the show, Pebblehut or PAX. All original characters (eg you've never heard of them before) are of my own creation. If they have your name, it's just he world's biggest coincidence.

* * *

"I can't believe that Al Quaeda had a plan to blow up the cenotaph…on November 11th of all days," Jack muttered to Bobby as the two men returned to the ops vehicle.

"They wanted to make a statement…what can I say? They picked a good day to do just that," Bobby replied, pulling the zipper of his SWAT jacket down.

"November 11th, as if it hadn't already been a grim reminder," Myles added, a look of disgust on his face, "They just _had_ to make it into another September 11th didn't they?"

The three men fell silent as they all turned around as one and watched the aging veterans smartly salute their fallen comrades. And these veterans were so close to all being killed if they had failed in their op.

Word had gotten to them a little over a week ago that there was chatter from overseas (in the vicinity of Afghanistan) about a planned attack that was meant to break the American people, a plan that was so horrific in scope. Up until yesterday, they knew there was going to be an attack, and they knew it was going to be on November 11th, but they didn't know where. No one slept last night; they were all trying their hardest to stop the attack before it began.

They got lucky. One of the men they had arrested days ago caved under pressure. It was sad, really, as he was only in his early twenties, and an American-born citizen, who had gotten mixed up with a radical Muslim sect as a result of his desire to become a more faithful Muslim. It broke their hearts that he had been brainwashed into thinking jihad was a good thing, when all he wanted initially was to serve Allah better.

"We got lucky on this one, guys," Jack told Bobby and Myles soberly. "If Mohammed hadn't realised what a mistake he had made joining these guys when he did…"

"We'd be down a couple hundred veterans who are the only ones who can remind us about the horror of war," Myles summarized grimly. "But you're right," he added, his tone a little lighter. "What happened with Mohammed, that was a God-send."

"Yeah, he's a good guy," Bobby added, "Completely confused right now, but a good guy."

"That's always the saddest cases," Jack added. They started at the 21 gun salute, mainly because they were still expecting something terrible to happen, and mostly because they had gotten so deep in conversation. "But I'm glad we were able to pull this op off without those guys," he added nodding toward the old veterans, "being the wiser. It would have really opened up some old wounds if they knew someone was deliberately trying to kill them."

"Yeah," Bobby said softly, pondering on the sacrifice made by so many young men a little over sixty years ago.

"Gentlemen, we seem to have company," Myles told them, indicating the three veterans walking purposely toward them. They hurriedly tried to remove their ops gear, before realising that it was impossible to do that and expect the three men not to notice. Instead, they stood casually, trying to appear like they dressed like this everyday.

"You three must have been some of the ones who saved our hides today," one of them remarked. Judging by the poppy on his coat lapel, and the maple leaf on his beret, he was Canadian.

"Pardon?" Jack asked, almost choking on the word.

"You saved us from all being blown to kingdom-come," the man beside him clarified, giving them a knowing smile.

"And ve vonted to thank you," the third man, a German, added.

"For what?" Bobby asked with an uncomfortable smile on his face. None of them knew why they were being thanked.

"And pardon my interruption," Myles added, his voice puzzled, "But do we know you?"

"No," came the simple answer from the Canadian. "But I'm Lieutenant Mark Johnson, 1st field artillery…just like John McCrae."

"Left-tenant?" Jack asked tentatively.

"That's lieutenant to you," Bobby whispered to him. "That's how we call it back in Australia too."

"Oh," Jack said apologetically. The lieutenant waved him off. "And these are my friends," he added, gesturing to the German, "Andreas Heimerschmide and John MacAdams," he finished, pointing to the American.

"Pleased to meet you," Myles told them, extending his hand. The other two did likewise, and a round of handshakes followed. "Now," he continued, "what is all this about thanking us?"

"We wanted to thank you for keeping those terrorists from blowing up the Novemeber 11th ceremonies," Mark continued.

Jack blanched. The FBI had deliberately quietly disarmed the terrorists so that the ceremony could go on in peace. "Were we that obvious?" he asked in distress.

"Ach! No!" Andreas laughed.

"We three just happened to all be lookouts for our respective armies," John added. "We got those jobs because we saw _everything_."

"We know this is a thankless job for you, and we wanted you to know that someone knows what you did for us," Mark finished.

"So the three of you are friends?" Myles asked. He immediately saw how his words could be taken and tried to backpedal. "I'm sorry-"

"For vhat?" Andreas asked. "Ve know ve vere enemies in zhee war…I remember shooting zhis man at Normandy," he said, clapping John on the shoulder.

"But I got over it eventually…and we were all young bucks, looking for adventure and trying to serve our countries. And the price was high, gentlemen," John added, looking at each significantly.

"Yes," Mark added, "And like Lieutenant-Colonel McCrae said, we're throwing you the torch…don't make the same mistakes we made."

"Avoid war if there's another way," John added. "I know my folks nearly died from grief when I was shipped off."

"I know you von't forget," Andreas said with certainty. "It's in your hearts, and it will never leave."


End file.
